It should surprise no one that the life of the writer - such as it is - is colorless to the point… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
For writing a first draft requires from the writer a peculiar internal state which ordinary life does not induce. ... how to… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Let the grass die. I let almost all of my indoor plants die from neglect while I was writing the book. There… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by. A life of good days… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world, Now I am ready. Now… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Private life, book life, took place where words met imagination without passing through the world.” — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Our life seems cursed to be a wiggle merely, and a wandering without end. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Is it not late? A late time to be living? Are not our generations the crucial ones? For we have changed the… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour and with that… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“life by its mere appalling length is a feat of endurance for which you haven't the strength.” — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“We teach our children one thing only, as we were taught: to wake up. We teach our children to look alive there,… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“The written word is weak. Many people prefer life to it. Life gets your blood going, and it smells good. Writing is… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I would like to live. . . open to time and death painlessly, noticing everything, remembering nothing, choosing the given with a… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“In the deeps are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us. But if you ride these monsters deeper down,… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The universe that suckled us is a monster that does not care if we live or die--it does not care if it… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle curved tunnels of leaf miners on the face… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“At the time of Lewis and Clark, setting the prairies on fire was a well-known signal that meant, ‘Come down to the… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“The rock I'd seen in my life looked dull because in all ignorance I'd never thought to knock it open. People have… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“I am a sacrifice bound with cords to the horns of the world's rock altar, waiting for worms. I take a deep… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Thomas Merton wrote, “there is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.” There is always an… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
We live half our waking lives and all of our sleeping lives in some private, useless, and insensible waters we never mention… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The written word is weak. Many people prefer life to it. Life gets your blood going, & it smells good. Writing is… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“This is a spendthrift economy; though nothing is lost, all is spent.” — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
Nothing moves a woman so deeply as the boyhood of the man she loves. — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
We live in all we seek. The hidden shows up in too-plain sight. It lives captive on the face of the obvious - the… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“...The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped. His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“Father had stretched out his long legs and was tilting back in his chair. Mother sat with her knees crossed, in blue slacks, smoking… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It should surprise no one that the life of the writer - such as it is - is colorless to the point of sensory… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
The sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain. This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
“What can we make of the inexpressible joy of children? It is a kind of gratitude, I think—the gratitude of the ten-year-old who wakes… — Annie Dillard Copy Share Image
